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Category: 50 Grind Dates

Grind Date No. 12: Gilty

I should have probably wrote a combined entry for this and date no. 11 as they were both short and they both have things in common, but I took the creative liberty of splitting them in two because, without giving any spoilers, there might be a reason in the future for doing so.

I’d seen ‘Gilty’s’ profile a few times on Grindr. He looked young and very cute. He somewhat reminded me of one of my exes and, oddly enough, my intuition wasn’t that far off. I remember messaging him from either my iPad or my phone (yes, I have two accounts, Grindr wasn’t initially available for Androids and after it was, I had already built a “network” of boys on my iPad and couldn’t transfer my profile so I kept both). I don’t think he responded. A few days ago, I messaged him from my other device. This time he bit the bait.

We talked for a few days. He was quite witty and showered me with compliments. What can I say? I’m a sucker for an ass kisser (both figuratively and literally). He mentioned he had a boyfriend but, again, that didn’t stop him from sending me sexy pics and asking for the same. All he got was a pic of me in my underwear cleaning my apartment. Similar pictures are readily available on my Facebook anyway so it wasn’t a big deal, and he’d already “friended” me.

** side note: why don’t people post accurate pictures online?! his Grindr and Facebook did NOT exude the same vibe! I’ll elaborate later.**

He kept suggesting we meet for “fully clothed cuddling sessions” and tea. I love how these people are in “relationships”. What’s the point of having one if you’re going to be flirting with everything that moves and sending pictures of your peen to whoever requests them (or doesn’t in my case)? Just drop the labels society requires you to adopt. I should write an entire entry on my thoughts on this whole phenomenon.

When I asked him why he was on Grindr if he had a man he said that, as his profile stated, he was just looking for friends. He also sent me a picture of his boyfriend’s Grindr profile. Curiously enough, I’d talk to the guy too. Which one was hotter? I think the boyfriend, but ‘Gilty’ was more fun to talk to.

After a couple of days of back and forthing, he suggested we meet Tuesday morning for tea because that was really the only time both our schedules worked out. I agreed. By a twist of fate, my sister had a layover Monday night and was going to be in New York till Tuesday evening. I informed ‘Gilty’ of this. He was bummed. By another twist of fate, my sister was stuck in Newark, and would not meet me till midday on Tuesday so as soon as I woke up I messaged him. He was going to come over when, again, fate was being a bitch, and my sister called saying she was about to take a train to the city. I apologized to ‘Gilty’ and told him I could meet him for a smoothie and he could come with as I walked my dog. He agreed.

I got dressed and out the door I went to the coffee shop. My initial reaction? he was somewhere between his very hot Grindr pic and his very camp Facebook pics. I dug it. He ordered a coffee,  I got my usual, and we walked down Bedford ave. He complimented me once more on my looks and my outfit. I found out he was a stylist (my ex was in fashion). He was a Gemini (just like my ex). He loved thrift shops (so did my ex). He had a peculiar sense of style (guess who else did too?!). He was from Florida (this is where the similarities stopped).

We walked and talked and talked and walked some more. A brief 10 minute doggie walk turned into a marathonian endeavor. I didn’t mind since I was having fun and, again, getting my ass kissed. I lost track of time for a second, but then I remembered I had a younger sister on a train on her way to a city she’s never been so I refocused and bid him Auf Wiedersehen. He’s also German.

We decided to meet sometime next week for round two. A part of me wants to see how far I can push his boundaries. I wasn’t and am not looking for sex out of these encounters, but I feel like I’ve hit a slight dry spell and I need to spice it up a bit and I feel like I like this one for that specific reason. There’s something really alluring about tender taken meat.

Just like the previous date, all there’s left to say is: to be continued…


Grind Date No. 11: Rick.

Although it did not start off Grindr, because I first saw this one on the train on our way to Fire Island last week, I decided to included this as a Grindr Date because we first started talking through the app and, as I mentioned in a previous post, it was very cute and documenting-worthy.

After our first unofficial meet, we kept texting back and forth making plans to maybe meet sometime during the week when he was back in New York. I did not think much about it during the weekend because, as I had stated, it was a tough Friday-Sunday and I was just focused on my friend. Sunday He mentioned he’d be running around the city on Monday stopping by Brooklyn sometime after lunch. The “date” was set. He was going to text me when he was around my neighborhood so we could meet for “something”.

Monday I was running around cleaning like crazy, my apartment hadn’t had a good scrub down since before ‘Siouxsie’ had came to visit. We were texting all morning. He suggested he’d come and watch me clean. I wasn’t very comfortable with him coming to my place right away, plus I wasn’t sure what I wanted to make out of this encounter so I told him it was a mess and we’d be better off meeting for a drink somewhere near. At about 3:30 pm he texted he was about half hour away so I showered, got ready, and met him outside the Bedford stop. He was looking more handsome than before. He had an almost inexistent accent. He was quite tall which I guess is what I go for lately. We kissed hello. I told him I needed to get food before putting some alcohol in my system. I bought a slice from a spot half a block away and we walked down Bedford to look for a bar.

Although he’s no stranger to the city, I wasn’t sure where I wanted to take him. Somehow somewhere around Bedford and Metropolitan it hit me: Lucky Dog, a bar I don’t normally frequent because it’s not really close, but I quite enjoy. It’s cheap enough and has a backyard. He enjoyed the spot. We ordered two beers and sat in the back patio.

The conversation was great. He is very interesting, seems quite nice, and has an eye for good fashion. We talked about everything normal dates talk about, yet it was never dull or boring. We were not being very touchy feely but there was some sort of tension there. I could smell it. He mentioned he had a boyfriend back home. What a surprise! A gay guy in an open relationship? I think I need to reevaluate my own convictions a bit more because the more guys I meet, the more I realize this is the norm and if you can’t beat them, join them. To be honest tho, I wouldn’t say I’ve had to beat them because deep down I kind of feel I’ve always been inclined to that. Why fight my own nature?

We ordered a second beer. I taught him about pickle back shots, and told him he needed to have one before he left. He told me he had a dinner and thus he had to leave soon. The beers where enchantingly casting their cupid-like spell on me. I was considering taking this one home. At the same time, I was fine with not doing so, the weekend had me very drained. We finished our beers and before walking out I made him take a shot with me. He liked it.

We walked back to the subway. He kept complimenting me which I never mind. I complimented him back but, like most older men I’ve gone out with, he seemed to have a problem believing the validity of my statements. He mentioned he comes to New York a lot so we decided to be patient and postpone the sexy games for when we actually have time/we’re ready. We got to the train station and kissed goodbye. It was nice. A cop was watching. He said he might try and meet up with me again the next day. We left it at that.

I went home slightly buzzed and updated my Facebook to: “I think I’m down with Germans”. He “liked” it later that day.

We didn’t meet on Tuesday, he was very busy, and I had an impromptu visit from my sister so I was busy as well. We’ve been talking since. He seems extremely nice. It’s cute. I’m not sure what’ll come from it, but I’m open to the possibilities. I’m sure there will be entries on the blog about that when/if it happens. For now all I have to say is: fortzusetzen…


Grind Date No. 10: Boricuan Benefactee

The title should start to set the tone for this entry. I don’t mean to be mean, again, just honest, but this time, I felt like my kind heart was being very giving. I met the ‘Boricuan Benefactee, or ‘BB’ for short, on Monday night whilst on Grindr. His default picture was, not surprisingly, a headless torso, but with his first “hello” he also sent a face pic. Instant reaction: oh hell no. But then he sent a few more messages that made him seem both sweet, funny, and different, so I gave him the chance to prove himself. As expected, and I am a very good judge of character. He was all of the above. He looked black, but he soon told me he was half Panamanian (gross) and half Puerto Rican (even grosser). I don’t mean to sound racist, but there’s two things to consider here: in the hypothetical hierarchy between Hispanics, you have Spaniards, followed by Mexicans, and then the rest; furthermore, I don’t feel attracted to people darker than me. I don’t know why, it makes no sense, but that’s how it is and I can’t argue with my penis. He usually wins.

As I stated before, I was having a home cooked dinner with ‘Jose Maria’, whilst Grinding, watching “The A-List” (I don’t know why I do that), and also possibly making plans to meet a friend at Metro who was just in town for the night. I didn’t really have time for a date, not was I expecting to have a typical one. It’s Grindr, I think it redefines the concept of what a gay date is. ‘BB’ was sweet, he invited me over, but I told him of my previous plans. I told him to come meet me at the bar. As soon as ‘The A-List’ was done, we walked over to Metro, and met up with my other friend. ‘BB’ kept insisting that he wanted to hang out but was too shy to come meet me. I didn’t find this shady, I found it infantile. The dollar PBR’s were slowly making me more impatient and a bit more of an asshole. I was getting bored with the Boricua, yet at the same time I wanted to see how persuasive I could be. Drinking also makes me stubborn. He took a long time, but eventually he came (no pun intended).

I was ordering a drink inside when I first spotted him. He was wearing black shorts and a red American Apparel plaid poly/blend t-shirt (my ex was the manager of the best selling AA in California, that’s why I know these things). He was taller than me, not to mention the fact that he had some curly pseudo mohawk that looked more like a black triangular hedge with a life of its own than actual hair which added a few more inches. To be fair, he was cuter than his pictures, but still not my type. He ordered a drink and I took him outside to meet my friends. He was not shy, on the contrary, he was very chatty with ‘Jose Maria’. Then again, ‘Jose Maria’ has that quality about him, which is why we bond well as friends. Sometimes when I’m being my charming lush self prancing around the bar socializing, he’s holding down the fort for when I decide to come back.

I talked to ‘BB’ for a bit, found out he was in a band, he was moving soon possibly out of the neighborhood, and a few other things that I didn’t care to remember. We had more drinks, but nothing else really. He seemed more engaged with my partner in crime than me, and that was fine. Like I said, I was just trying to be nice since he wanted to hang out, but from the get go I knew that, unless I was life threateningly drunk, I wasn’t gonna touch him with a ten foot pole. Ok that’s a bit too much, I meant in terms of anything sexual. As a friend the kid is alright. He’s very green, but he’s nice enough for me to consider hanging out with him again. I enjoy random drinks with random acquaintances.

We left Metro and walked towards our respective places. Turns out he lives about a couple of blocks away from me. I said goodbye and went home.

A few days later I randomly saw him comment on one of my friend’s facebook status updates. We didn’t just have one or two friends in common, we had eight, and a pretty diverse selection from all around the New York gay scene. Naturally, I befriended him. I’ve said it before and  I’ll say it again: How fuckin’ small is the gay world?!


Grind Date No. 9: FiDi.

I think I need to reevaluate what it means to go on a “date”. Although the following two encounters were a bit more fruitful than the previous 2, they were still not a proper “dinner and a movie” kind of situations, but then again I’m picking my suitors off Grindr, what can I expect?

I met ‘FiDi’ while at work. His profile picture was him wearing a white shirt and a grey/tan suit that, although not properly tailored, made him look nice and successful. He had moved to NY recently from North Carolina, and worked in finance. I am a sucker for business men. We started talking and he seemed witty and intelligent. He is younger than me, younger than what I usually go for, but if you manage to stimulate my grey matter I’ll give you the time of day so, after a vast amount of back and forth messages, I gave him my number so we could text instead of killing our respective batteries through the app.

The texts continued. They were plenty and clever. We exchanged full names, I cyber stalked his Facebook profile, and added him. Not surprisingly, yet interestingly enough, we had three friends in common. I say interestingly because I wasn’t really expecting him to be friends with them of all people, but then again I’d later discover more about his m.o. and it would all make sense. The gentlemen in question were a bartender (no surprise there), and my year long crush ‘Fixie’ and his friend. That was the shock. He didn’t seem like any of their type, and they didn’t seem like his type either, not just for sex but in terms of friendship too. I obviously asked how he knew them. He said he didn’t know me well enough to tell me yet. Of course he was trying to make me think that this implied sex, but I knew that wasn’t the case. Later I found out they met at a party and that was the only time they saw each other.

The messages continued for a few days. We had made plans to meet for drinks last Friday after work, and possibly a dinner with his friends (which I found a bit weird), but it just so happened that ‘Fixie’ invited me on a bike ride to Conney Island and, of course, I had to reschedule with ‘FiDi’. He was ok with this. He said I’d have to make it up to him by buying him dinner. I suggested Taco Bell and only from the dollar menu. He accepted. Unfortunately, it rained that night so I didn’t get my ‘Fixie’ fix nor did I meet my future Mr. Big.

Saturday ensued more texting. No official meet yet.

Sunday I worked. I met ‘The Lady of Derbyshire’ and ‘Jose Maria’ for drinks at her rooftop after. We all had a late dinner (or right on if you’re on Greek time) and I wasn’t really feeling like going out. ‘The Lady of Derbyshire’s’ roommate, who is new to the city, wanted to party, so I suggested we go to the Gansevoort rooftop pool, and then maybe Greenhouse where ‘FiDi’ was supposed to be. Her straight friend quickly nixed the idea since these were gay soirees, so I texted ‘FiDi’ to see what he was doing. Me and ‘Jose Maria’ wishy washily discussed what we should do but, after neither of us was proactive and I didn’t get a text back, I just went home.

I was expecting to watch True Blood, have some wine and go to bed, but OnDemand has been bad about posting the episodes right after the air, so I talked to ‘FiDi’ and we decided to meet at Metropolitan. I have to give it to the kid, coming from the Financial District is not a short trip, so his efforts finally paid off, and he was finally going to get to enjoy my company. He texted me he was going to wear his plaid shirt to “fit in”. I giggled.

I arrived at Metro and ran into some familiar faces, as usual. Ten minutes later he arrived. He was indeed wearing a plaid shirt and, to make matters worse/funnier, eyeglasses which he didn’t actually need. He was cuter than the picture in a different way yet still not really my type. Kind of a baby face and still with some baby fat. As expected, he was very fun to talk to. The text-to-actual-conversation transition was nice. We had a few drinks, I smoked a few cigarettes, and we hit it off nicely. Some guy I recognized from Grindr kept staring at me and finally approached us. In his drunken stupor he started hitting on me and asked ‘FiDi’ if I was his boyfriend or if we were on a date. ‘FiDi’ handled the situation slyly and said that no, we weren’t together and we were sort of on a date. Drunk boy chatted us up a bit but eventually got the hint and left. Although he was cute, and I’d hit him up before on Grindr, I was a gentleman and let him leave to focus on my “date”.

The “date” seemed more like meeting a friend. We were very comfortable around each other to the point of both going on Grindr and comparing guys. He was a bit annoyed by this I think because he kept pointing out that I’d go on it again and again but, like I said, to me it was more of a friends thing and I was drunk enough to not care, plus he was doing it too. He talked about going to the Folsom Street Fair, and some sex party in which he didn’t participate, but that’s where he met ‘Fixie’s’ friend. It all made sense now. I don’t know why I was surprised he knew them. He is the typical case of small town gay moving to the big city and delighting himself in the new offerings that come with a more open minded place to live. Also, he is a business guy! They always turn out to be the “crazy, dungeon in the back room of my apartment, I love to get pissed on, and I have a collection of snuff films” kinda guy. I liked it.

Some other creep from Grindr started hitting on us. It was kind of scary, he was just looking to satiate his aching butthole’s desires, but neither me nor ‘FiDi’ were going to help. We talked to him a bit, but then we decided to leave. It was late. I was very drunk.

He walked me home because either he was expecting an invite, or he was somewhat concerned I couldn’t actually make it home. Neither of which were gonna happen. I’ve been in worse intoxicated states before and I always find my way my own bed if I want to. I said goodbye and went upstairs. No kiss, no anything.

The next day he texted me he had a good time, I replied saying I did too. He said he couldn’t’ wait to hang out again. Of course, I’m a fun guy to hang out with. I probably will, he was a nice kid and he’s new to the city, I’m always happy to oblige and extend a welcome. Although the “date” was uneventful in terms of sex, I was very pleased with the outcome. I am not always looking for sex and, like I stated when I first started this project, I am open for whatever. In this case, I think I just made a new friend.

Grind Date No. 7 & 8: Cupcakes & Clovers.

As I mentioned in the previous post, I had two quicky Grind dates this past weekend. I was beginning to think I was hitting a dry spill of some sort and I was somewhat hopefully for these two unexpected incidents, but sadly, almost nothing happened. However, I feel I should still record the experience to keep true to the mission at hand.

The mix of my recent manic hornyness and the drive to actually finish this project I started had lead me to logging in to Grindr, to the dislike of my friends, almost religiously. Everywhere and anywhere I went I’d try to make my presence noticed in the cyber cruise space, and apparently, my efforts have somewhat paid off.

Enter: Cupcakes. I saw him when I was logged in at Phoenix last Friday night. He was going out and I was going home so we just starred each other (Grindr’s way of “bookmarking” some one), exchanged numbers, and said goodnight. The following Saturday we were messaging consistently while I was at work. He mentioned he worked at a Cupcake shop in the village. He was cute, young, charming, and with a dog. Not necessarily instant wet pants, but something to work with. We sexted a bit. He kept me intrigued. Somehow he coerced me to stop by his shop after work and lured me with some free iced tea and dessert.

I asked ‘The Lady of Derbyshire’ to come with, and as soon as the clock struck 7 we closed the office and walked over. The weather was horribly hot and humid. The walk wasn’t the sexiest. Upon arriving, I was gross and sweaty, and a bit out of breath, but I said hi. He was cuter in person. There was a slightly awkward exchange of words and I got my Red Velvet 500 calorie cupcake and iced tea. We sat down in the AC-less establishment and gave in to our fat kid impulses. I didn’t talk to him at all the whole time. He was behind the counter, and I was with “The Lady of Derbyshire”. We finished our dessert and drank the delicious generic iced tea (to be honest, it might’ve only been delicious because of the heat) and I said bye and we took off. I told him to text me after work. Maybe we could meet, why not? We didn’t.

We texted back and forth a handful of times after that. Nothing really came out of it. I am not sure what he thought of me but by the looks of it, he wasn’t feeling it. Oh well, maybe later there’ll be an entry on round two.

Sunday I woke up a bit late for work and logged on to Grindr. I had been messaging some guy who was not too far away. He suggested we grab brunch but I said I had to work so I couldn’t. I told him I was gonna go grab a smoothie and he asked me to bring him one. I said “what do you think I am? the service? I am mexican, but that’s it”. He asked if he could join. I told him to meet me in 7 minutes. He arrived 15 minutes later. We got our drinks and walked back towards his. He was Irish, hence why I christened him ‘Clovers’. He worked with kids with autism. He lived in Massachusetts, and was in town only for the weekend. Overall he seemed like a nice guy, not my type at all physically, but a nice guy. His Grindr picture was deceiving.

We stopped outside his place and sat on the steps. We talked for about 5 to 10 minutes, and I told him I had to go. He said he was about to offer to go upstairs and get to know each other a bit better. I would’ve politely declined anyways. I walked home and got ready for work.

Grind Dates No. 5 & 6: The Griffin and The Cat.

My last day in Paris started with a lunch date. As I had mentioned, someone had recognized me on grindr the night before. After a quick memory searching I remembered him. I’d kissed him a while ago when he was in town visiting friends of my friends. That night had been a bit crazy. I kissed two or three guys, and so did he, and so did my friend, and so did his friend. It was a kissing clusterfuck. Nothing more happened, I never saw him again. ‘The Griffin’ mentioned he wanted to see me, I thought “why not?”, I was kind of intrigued to see this man in bright light. I told him I wanted to eat at this vegetarian restaurant in the marais, he offered to join. I showered and walked over to the spot. He lived close by. I was a bit late. He was waiting for me outside.

First… err… second? impression: just like shrimp, everything was good but the head. He had bad skin, but he was tall, slender, and very stylishly dressed. He asked if we could speak French, I said we’d be better off sitting in silence. We spoke English. He was nice. We discussed how small the gay world was. We formaly introduced ourselves and asked all the standard “what do you do’s”, “where are you from’s”, and “how do you know’s…” now that it was bright, we were sober, and there was no loud music. I ordered the ‘chilli sin carne‘, he ordered the ‘parmentier’ I believe. We shared some wine, and had coffee after the meal. C’est tout. ‘The Griffin’ paid for my food.

I wasn’t very sure what to think of the encounter… Did he want sex? Did I want sex?  Certainly not this early. I told him I had to meet a friend in half hour. I told him we should talk later that evening. In reality, I had another date lined up.

He walked me to the metro where I said I had to go the opposite direction as him. I lied. I had no idea where i was going but i wanted to figure it out on my own. We said goodbye and I turned the corner. I texted ‘The Cat’. He didn’t reply. I had met this one a couple days ago on grindr and we’d decided we’d finally meet after several unsuccessful attempts. I called, he answered. Between his French accent, the crappy cellphone reception, and the noise of the streets, it was hard to understand what he was saying, but somehow I deciphered he wanted me to meet him in front of Centre Pompideu. I hung up the phone and texted him to confirm. I can read French better than I can understand ESL over the phone. He realized I had texted him earlier and said he’d meet me outside the metro ‘arts et metieres’ instead since I was there and it was on his way. I waited for about 20 minutes and then I finally saw him.

To say that his picture on grindr did not accurately portray him is an understatement! On grindr, he’s this sexy, scruffy French garçon smoking a cigarette and giving a James Dean-esque look that says ‘I like rough sex’. In person, he was this frail, hunched, red head with a voice that screams ‘I’m the thing pedophile priests’ dreams are made of”. OK maybe I am being a bit rough, but I meant both statements in the nicest way. After all, he was indeed a very nice guy.  We walked and talked all the way to a coffee shop in front of Canal St. Martin, or as he put it in tourist terms “the canal where they filmed the movie Amelie”. I swear that movie must be every Parisian’s way of connecting to the world, it is certainly not the first nor the last time someone will point out something in Paris and say “have you seen the movie Amelie?…”

I ordered a beer, he ordered some coffee. ‘The Cat’ was really nice. He was smart, witty, interestingly dressed (in a good way), and well traveled (by Parisian standards). We finished our drink and he suggested we strolled along the canal. We did. It was a cute walk. There was a bit of sprinkly rain, but the sun was out, and Paris just looked like the Paris you see in movies… perhaps ‘Amelie’?

We walked back towards Republique and parted ways. He had a meeting to go to, I had a nap to take. I got back to the hotel and made plans with ‘Gong Girl’ to meet later for drinks and dancing. I woke up at 22h, we texted each other, and coincidentally met where we met the first time I saw her. She was with some friends celebrating this other girl’s birthday. There  was a beautiful French gay boy with them (he was taken) that I couldn’t stop staring at. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. My last night was short, but fun.

Grind Date No. 4: Twentyeight.

On my last day in Amsterdam, I woke up somewhat early. I had lots of things to accomplish that day. The previous days I had partied, rested, and dilly dallied and not really gotten anything done that should be done when you first visit a city. I fought my usual hang over the same way I usually do: juice, water, pastry.

The day consisted of the Anne Frank house, Stedelijk Museum (contemporary and modern art), the Van Gogh museum, Rijskmuseum  (Dutch history and heritage), a bike ride through the park, and eating some raw herring. I accomplished 66% of my goal. Anne Frank’s house was emotional. Stedelijk Museum was closed for renovation… or so I thought… Later I found the actual museum, not the annex, and it was quite nice. Van Gogh was overpriced, but a must when visiting Amsterdam. Rijskmuseum was educational. Back to the hostel I went. There was no bike ride or raw herring.

I logged onto grindr and started talking to a few boys. I ended up making plans with one who worked really close to my place: ‘Twentyeight’. He suggested I go eat at a place not too far away from where he lived. He said he’d meet me for a drink after I ate and after he got off work.  I googled the place and it sounded decent: a nice little vegetarian Indian place.

After my decent dinner (I’d been eating home made Indian food in Birmingham, this place stood no chance), we decided on meeting across the street at a place called ‘mustache bar’. ‘Twentyeight’ arrived promptly. First impression: he’s different and cute. He spoke really good English, unlike my previous encounter. We ordered a few rounds and had a very nice conversation.

After, he suggested we went to a karaoke place since we both didn’t feel like going out raging all night. We walked for about ten minutes to his place of choice. He’d warn me it was quite unique and with a very mixed crowd. This man spoke the truth. Unique is an understatement. Upon entering the bar I spotted two very grungy drag queens behind the bar, a few older drunk straight men, a couple of fags with their respective hags, and some average looking people. The karaoke was hilarious. We ordered drinks and chatted a bit more. It turns out his birthday is the day after mine, and his favorite number is 28. What are the fucking odds! I was starting to like this guy… not in the way that “I want to marry you”, but in the way that “yes, maybe I’ll come home with you”. After a few more rounds, I did.

He’d told me his friend signed him up for one of those “home makeover” shows, so I was intrigued to see the final result. His place was a bit messy. I didn’t mind. It was nice for being my second Dutch apartment I’d ever seen. We listened to music, drank some more wine, and started kissing. The kissing continued downstairs in his bedroom. As i was kissing him I felt bumps on his back. I was a bit concerned, but also a bit drunk and horny. The clothes came off. Another nice (although bent), big Dutch dick. Either I’m lucky or Dutch men are packing. We discussed “gay roles”. Turns out we’re both tops. ‘Twentyeight’ asked if I’d ever done poppers. I said yes. He offered. We sniffed. Smart move. Not. Fooled around some more. Oral sex. This time I did suck. He wanted me to fuck him, he claimed poppers turned him into a bottom, but to be honest, those bumps had my usual paranoia augmented. We ended up just jacking off. He bit my nipple very hard, and then came on my chest. I came on my chest as well. He rubbed my nipple after with the cum. Crazy old me started thinking the worst case scenario: he bit my nipple, I must have a minuscule cut, he rubbed semen on it, I will get HIV. He laid on my chest for a second. He asked if I’d spend the night but both my paranoia and the fact that I was leaving next morning convinced me to leave. I got dressed. We said goodbye and I started walking back.

On my way home, I texted Geordie-mo. He managed to calm me down superbly. To quote him: “unsafe sex is like fear of flying – when I get scared on the plane I just think of the trolly dollies who do it everyday”. I didn’t have unsafe sex, but the thought was comforting. I dozed off with minimal thoughts about the evening and a nice, post orgasm smile on my face.